


your mission, should you choose to accept it (is to shut the hell up)

by doctorkaitlyn



Series: tumblr fics & ficlets, part ii. [49]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-19 19:53:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15517371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/pseuds/doctorkaitlyn
Summary: Ryan’s made some idiotic decisions in his life. He’s willing to concede that point.But of all the dumb decisions he’s made, at the moment, he suspects that actively sleeping with Shane and Zack might be the most idiotic decision of all.(or, Zack and Shane won't stop fighting about Mission: Impossible, so Ryan finds a way to shut them up.)





	your mission, should you choose to accept it (is to shut the hell up)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beethechange](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beethechange/gifts), [ricky_goldsworth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ricky_goldsworth/gifts).



> inspired in part by Zack's tweet about Mission Impossible and written because Gray and Bee told me to, and I aim to please. also written for the July edition of the [Shyan Scavenger Hunt](https://shyanscavengerhunt.tumblr.com/), for the prompt "oral sex."
> 
> to clarify, prior to this fic, Ryan is sleeping with both Zack and Shane (which everyone involved is aware of), but Zack and Shane aren't sleeping with each other.

Ryan’s made some idiotic decisions in his life. He’s willing to concede that point.

Making a living out of agitating spirits and demons? Idiotic. Spending hours upon hours trawling through message boards until he’s convinced himself of the validity of conspiracy theories that seemed moronic mere hours before? Idiotic. Getting blasted off mai tais with Shane every other Sunday even though he _knows_ that he’ll be stumbling into work on Monday with a throbbing headache and a churning gut? _Consistently_ idiotic.

But of all the dumb decisions he’s made, at the moment, he suspects that actively sleeping with Shane and Zack might be the most idiotic decision of all.

Sure, he has reasoning behind that decision, reasoning that seemed fairly solid up until about half an hour ago, something about how sleeping with Shane is an utter experience because he _trusts_ him wholly and fully, whereas Zack is a perfectly calming presence, knows the best ways to keep him distracted when he gets too far into his own head.

But the finer points, the minutiae of the reasoning, has officially flown out the window. Scratch that - it’s been _pushed_ out by the window by their yammering about Mission: Impossible, which shows no sign of stopping anytime soon.

“But the plot of the second one is incomprehensible!”

“Oh, and you’re telling me that you remember the plot of the first one?”

“Yes! I watched it last week!”

Ryan’s seen all of the movies but doesn’t have much of an opinion of them one way or another. Zack and Shane, on the other hand, are _bizarrely_ into them. Zack has a theory that the ones where Tom Cruise has long hair are better than the others. Shane vehemently disagrees, and that’s what they’ve been debating about for the last half hour, ever since they finished wrapping the newest episode of Ruining History. Sara and Garrett had slipped out after five minutes, but Ryan had stuck around because Zack was supposed to give him a ride home, and because he’d expected that their debate would last ten minutes, at the most. 

At the very least, it’s been a productive half hour. He’s answered twenty emails, read a handful of articles on ESPN, fully caught up on all of his friend’s Snapchat stories (which isn’t an easy feat, seeing as Steven seems to update his every ten seconds with a new picture or video of his and Andrew’s cat). But now, he’s starting to get bored and hungry, and his battery is almost drained, and still, the two of them show no sign of losing steam anytime soon.

It would almost be amusing, how devoted they both are to winning, if it wasn’t so fucking _annoying_.

“How do you beat literally climbing up the side of the Burj Khalifa?”

“Uh, by holding onto a plane as it takes off? That’s how?”

“You two planning on wrapping this up anytime soon?” Ryan asks, absently opening Snapchat again. Unsurprisingly, he has another update - this time, it’s Sara playing with Obi. The fact that she’s already home, that she didn’t have to stick around and listen to this bullshit, makes Ryan’s annoyance tick up a notch.

“I’m not going anywhere until Shane admits that I’m right,” Zack says, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the desk. 

“Well, hope you packed for a sleepover then,” Shane replies. “I don’t have any plans for the night.” Ryan half-expects Zack to respond in turn, say that _he_ doesn’t have plans either, in which case, Ryan is either going to say fuck it and leave, or call an exorcist, because if Zack would rather continue to debate Shane for the rest of the night than come back to Ryan’s apartment, he’s obviously possessed.

Fortunately, Zack doesn’t say anything like that.

 _Un_ fortunately, he hops back into the debate like Ryan never interrupted them at all.

Within moments, they’re fully immersed again, talking over each other about side characters and overly complicated story lines and fight choreography.

Ryan snaps.

“I will literally suck off whichever one of you shuts up first.”

Zack’s mouth closes so fast that Ryan is surprised that he doesn’t amputate the tip of his tongue. Shane is a second or so behind, still in the midst of a sentence about Henry Cavill, but Ryan can see the moment realization hits him, because his eyes go wide and his head swivels around. His words don’t so much die as they retreat back down his throat, fade out like the last song on an album. 

If Ryan had known that this method was going to work so well, he would have pulled it out twenty minutes ago.

“You’re serious?” Zack asks. Ryan nods, pockets his phone and slides off the table.

“I am, and it looks like you’re the lucky winner. Shane, you’re on guard duty.” Truthfully, Ryan’s not actually that concerned about anyone walking in on them; the last crew member trickled out fifteen minutes ago, and at this time of night, it’s likely that anyone still remaining in the BuzzFeed complex will be too focused on their own projects to absently poke their heads into Studio 9.

On the other hand, he suspects that he _should_ be more concerned about the possibility this has to make things weird between the three of them. Admittedly, things already _are_ kind of weird between them; that tends to happen when you’re sleeping with both of your co-hosts, although not at the same time.

(Although it’s a concept Ryan has thought about bringing up before, if only for the fact it would be more efficient and _not_ because he's lost himself more than once to the mental image of Zack methodically pulling Shane apart with his mouth, of Shane’s long fingers slicked up and pressing into Zack one at a time, of the two of them working together to absolutely _wreck_ Ryan.

Definitely not because of that. Purely for the efficiency factor.)

“Ry?” Shane says from his chair. There’s confusion in his voice, but there’s something else there too, something like _intrigue_. 

“Guard duty,” Ryan repeats, coming around the desk to stand by them. “And I’m gonna need that chair in about three minutes.” With that, he turns around, drops both of his palms to the table on either side of Zack’s narrow hips, and leans up to kiss him. Zack’s lips part in a quiet sound of surprise, and Ryan takes advantage by pressing his teeth down into the swell of Zack’s bottom lip. Zack’s fingers abruptly come up and bite into his hips, and the next sound he makes is far more a gasp of arousal than surprise. 

When he steps back from Zack and glances over his shoulder, he jumps a little. Shane is no longer sprawled out in his chair; instead, he’s on his feet, and he’s only a few inches away, one hand raised like he was about to drop it on Ryan’s shoulder. He doesn’t quite look uncomfortable; there’s something glimmering in his dark eyes that Ryan recognizes, a look that he’s seen directed at him during filming and meetings and across bars when they’re out with everyone.

“You don’t have to stay,” he says, in case he’s misreading the whole situation, just to cover all the bases. “We don’t have to actually do this. Not if it’s gonna be weird.” 

“This is already kinda weird,” Zack says, waving one hand in the general vicinity of the three of them before he curls it around Ryan’s hip again. “But I’m... actually cool with it. If Shane is.”

Ryan tracks the bob of Shane’s throat as he swallows, and in the moments before Shane actually speaks up, Ryan’s nerves spark with anticipation.

“I want to stay,” he eventually answers. He finally finishes reaching out, trails his spindly fingers down the length of Ryan’s back before he nudges them against Zack’s. “I want to watch. If that’s okay.”

Ryan grins, and those sparks of anticipation turn into something hotter.

“Fine by me,” he says. “So long as you watch the door too.”

“I can multi-task.” The scraping of metal against concrete momentarily fills the space as Shane grabs another chair, pulls it over and drops down into it, close enough that Ryan could reach out and thread his fingers into Shane’s messy hair, if he felt so inclined. Once he’s comfortable, he flashes them a goddamn thumbs-up, and Ryan rolls his eyes as he leans up to kiss Zack again.

He’s not sure how his life actually came to this, but that’s definitely a topic he needs to do some ruminating on later, when he’s not busy.

This time, he kisses Zack until he can’t breathe, until his bottom lip aches from Zack’s teeth skating along it. While he regains his breath, he ducks his head and starts working at Zack’s neck. He sucks a splotchy mark into the base of his throat, too high for it to be hidden underneath his collar, and Zack’s breathing stutters as he presses his hips up into Ryan’s. 

“I would have shut up way earlier if I’d known this was on the table,” he says, tilting his head back as Ryan starts in on a mirror image of the first mark.

“Me too,” Shane says. One of his hands is curled around the back of Ryan’s thigh, and even through his jeans, the touch burns into Ryan’s skin.

“Good to know,” Ryan mutters, dragging his teeth a little as he leans away from Zack’s neck. “Or maybe, the next time you two feel like fighting, you can just fuck instead.”

Shane’s hand tightens on the back of Ryan’s thigh, and Zack sucks in a breath through his teeth.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, eyes glancing to the side, at Shane. Ryan isn’t sure who the question is aimed at, but he takes it upon himself to answer.

“Let’s just say that I’m not opposed to the idea.” Purposefully, he presses his hips forward against where Zack is already hard. “Doesn’t seem like you are either.”

“Maybe we could just fuck _you_ instead,” Shane says, voice shaky. Ryan bites back a groan.

“Not opposed to that either.” With one last press of his mouth to the bruised side of Zack’s neck, he takes a step back and waves at the empty chair. “Ready to sit down?”

“Zack nods rapidly and nearly trips over his own feet as he steps around Ryan and drops into the chair. He’s close enough to Shane that, when he splays his legs apart, their knees bump together. As Ryan drops to his knees and slides backwards so that he’s halfway underneath the desk, with his feet pressing into the small pile of props Shane has stashed under there, he keeps his eyes on the two of them. Zack is looking at Shane with his lips parted, one hand wrapped around his own knee.

“You don’t have to just watch,” he says tentatively. Ryan _almost_ wants to laugh; he’s pretty sure it’s a little too late for any of them to be feeling nervous about any of this, but the nerves are definitely present in Zack’s voice. “If you don’t want to.” 

Shane’s face flushes crimson. “Okay.”

Ryan almost asks if they’re done talking but decides better; at least this conversation is actually useful. He shuffles forward, until Zack’s knees are on either side of his shoulders, and starts working on his jeans, pops open the button and drags down the zipper. Zack carefully slides his free hand into Ryan’s hair; his other hand, previously located on his own knee, moves over onto Shane’s. When Ryan carefully frees Zack from the slit of his boxers, takes a moment to drag his fingers up the heavy heat of him, Zack’s fingers visibly tighten on Shane’s knee, and Shane lets out a soft groan.

“So he does that to you too?” Shane asks, palming himself briefly before he curls his hand back around the edge of the chair. 

“Does what?” Zack pants, carding his fingers through Ryan’s hair. The sensation of his blunt nails scraping against his scalp makes Ryan shudder, and he wraps his hand around the base of Zack’s dick.

“Takes his sweet time.”

“For someone who spent half an hour arguing about a goddamn movie, you’re awfully impatient,” Ryan mutters before, with no further preamble, he swallows Zack down.

The sounds he gets in response, a sharp curse from Zack and a murmured _Jesus Christ_ from Shane, the way they mix together so well, makes his head swim with possibilities.

Under normal circumstances, he _would_ take his sweet time, would drag things out until Zack was a mess, would put on a real show for Shane, but this isn’t exactly the place for it. Even though the chance of someone popping in is low, the chance still exists, not to mention the fact that his knees are already sore from the unforgiving floor. He’s hard as well, uncomfortably restrained by his own zipper, but as much as he _wants_ , it can wait until afterwards, until they’re somewhere a little more secure. 

He does his best to concentrate on the task that's literally and figuratively at hand, tries to focus on setting a steady rhythm with both his mouth and fingers, but Shane and Zack are remarkably distracting. It’s bad enough when they’re merely looking at each other, when the only real point of contact between them is where Zack’s hand is resting on Shane’s knee, but after a few moments where he manages to lose himself, a sudden gasp from Zack makes him glance up.

Apparently, Shane really wasn’t content to merely watch. He’s leaning over at an awkward angle, working on one of the marks Ryan left on Zack’s neck, trying to cover it up with one of his own. The sight makes Ryan’s dick twitch, and he presses the heel of his palm against the front of his jeans for some relief. 

He bobs his head faster, tightens his other hand around Zack’s dick and starts tracing small circles into Zack’s inner thigh with his thumb. Even through the thick fabric of his jeans, the touch makes Zack buck up into Ryan’s mouth, and a series of curses and gasps fall from his lips, mingled together with occasional, honest-to-god _whines._

Abruptly, the noises are cut off, and when Ryan looks up through his eyelashes, he discovers that Shane is swallowing the noises with his own mouth. One of his hands is tight in Zack’s hair, and they’re kissing messily with flashes of teeth and tongue. 

Ryan groans, and suddenly, with only a sharp tug on his hair as warning, Zack comes down his throat. Thankfully, he manages not to choke on it, and he catches the little bit that dribbles from the corner of his mouth with his thumb when he pulls back and tucks Zack back into his clothes.

Zack is a sight to behold; there’s a pink flush spreading down his neck, punctuated by the darker red marks put there by Ryan and exacerbated by Shane. Shane’s fingers managed to tug his hair into disarray in only a few minutes, and he looks utterly _dazed_ , the way he looks when he smokes a little too much weed. He and Shane are still in each other’s space, and when Zack slowly flicks his eyes open, Shane grins at him.

“I’m still right, by the way,” he says, voice raspy with arousal. Zack rolls his eyes.

“You’re not, actually.”

“Do _not_ fucking start this again,” Ryan says, sliding out from underneath the table and wincing slightly at the ache in his knees as he stands up. “If you wanna fight, fight about something useful, like which one of you is going to drive us to my apartment.”

“I’ll do it,” Zack volunteers. “I think Shane might be a little too distracted.”

“Now _there's_ something you're right about.” Shane gets to his feet and abruptly pulls Ryan into a kiss, unashamedly licks into Ryan’s mouth. Ryan’s knees almost buckle, and he grasps hold of Shane’s shirt so that he doesn’t slump over. Just as quickly as Shane kissed him, he backs away again and asks, “You ready to go, Ry?”

Ryan swallows and glances back and forth between the two of them. They’re going to have to talk about this at some point, _really_ talk about it, but considering that most of the blood in his body is decidedly _not_ in his brain at the moment, that conversation will have to wait.

“Yeah,” he answers, moving one hand away from Shane’s shirt so that he can haul Zack up from the chair. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

**Author's Note:**

> as always, I can be found on [tumblr.](http://banshee-cheekbones.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
